Нора Робертс - Year One

He thought of the body hanging. They’d cut it down before they left. They could do that much now, then come back for burial or burning.

“First we have to look after the living.”

* * *

Lana took Fred’s advice and transplanted some herbs in pots. Setting them in the sun near the kitchen door gave her a happy moment. She knew seeing them, smelling them, harvesting them would give her many more.

She’d gardened for the first time in her life. Helping hoe and weed rows of carrots and beans, being taught how to stake tomatoes. She’d seen hillocks of potatoes, the trailing vines of squash and pumpkin, eggplants. The growing stalks of corn.

And she’d heard children playing while she worked.

Best of all, after a thorough inspection of what she determined would be a community kitchen, she had plans.

She opted to work on them while sitting on the front porch with a glass of sun tea. Absently, she laid a hand where the baby kicked, then looked up when she saw Arlys.

“I heard you’ve been busy.”

“I had a wonderful day. Do you have a minute? I’ve got sun tea.”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll get you a glass.”

Even more wonderful, Lana thought as she went inside, to have a visitor, to just be able to sit and talk without worrying about what danger might lurk on the next mile of road.

“No ice, but I chilled it.” Lana wiggled her fingers as she offered Arlys the glass.

“Thanks. Wish list?” She tapped a finger on Lana’s legal pad.

“A couple of them. The community kitchen project. Do you know Dave Daily?”

“Sure. Big guy, big laugh.”

“He was a short-order cook and he’s all in on the project. And we’ve got a couple of people who have experience in dressing game. I’d love a smokehouse—ham, bacon, and so on. I actually found a book in the library on how that works.”

Impressed, interested, Arlys studied Lana over the rim of her glass. “You have been busy. I spent some time with Lloyd, working on the agenda for the public meeting.”

“You’re worried about it.”

“There are bound to be objections, people who don’t like being told what they can do, what they can’t. But we need it, and we need it before something happens, and we don’t have a solid structure to deal with it. I did an editorial bulletin on tolerance versus bigotry, on acceptance versus outdated fears. It didn’t hit the mark with everyone.”

“I worked at the gardens this morning. Almost everyone’s friendly and helpful. But a couple of people kept their distance. From Fred, too. How anyone can look at Fred and see anything but light and joy is beyond me.”

“She was my first personal experience with the magickal. Maybe that’s why it’s been easier for me than for some. For some, their first experience was with the frightening, the deadly. The Dark Uncanny. It’s harder to convince them to accept that those who have abilities beyond ours aren’t built to harm.”

No, Lana thought, not all magicks were of the light.

“Max’s brother. His own brother. He turned. He and the woman he was with. I think she was always dark, and she turned him. They killed one of our group. A harmless man—a boy really. Would have tried to kill all of us, especially…” She pressed a hand to her belly. “Max had to make a choice, and he chose light. He chose what was right even though it meant destroying his own brother. He loved Eric, but he chose light.”

“It must have been horrible for him.”

“It was, and still is. I’ve never seen power like that. Huge and black.” It still haunted Lana’s dreams. “They were giddy with it, drunk on it.”

“Fred and I saw it in the tunnels, getting out of New York.” Thinking of the … thing flying through the tunnels, she nodded at the words. “Huge and black.”

“Then you know. It’s not hard to see why anyone who faced that has fear.”

Lana turned her head, then rose as she saw the pickup. “That’s Eddie and Flynn.”

Arlys stood beside her. “Someone’s with them.”

When he spotted them, Flynn pulled up in front of the house.

These are good people , he told Starr.

I don’t know them .

You never will if you sit in the truck.

She got out reluctantly as the women came down. Lupa and Joe leaped out.

“This is Starr. She doesn’t want to be touched.”

A ragged shirt, torn jeans over a bone-thin frame, Lana noted. Hair tangled and matted. Suspicious eyes.

“I’m Lana. This is Arlys.”

Starr hunched her shoulders as others wandered closer or stopped to stare.

“I only got here yesterday,” Lana continued. “I know it’s a little scary at first, but—”

“I’m not scared, and I don’t have to stay.”

Fred jogged up, rhinestone-studded pink sunglasses perched on top of her bouncy red curls. “I saw the truck come back. Hey, hi!”

“This is Fred.” Arlys laid a hand on Fred’s arm, warning her back. “Starr doesn’t want to be touched.”

“Oh.” Fred’s face went to instant sympathy. “It feels weird, right, everybody looking at you and wondering? But this is a good place. Maybe you want to come with me—Arlys and I live right down there. You could come inside, clean up a little.”

“I don’t have to stay.”

“Well, even if you leave, you could have some clean clothes and maybe something to eat first. Then you can decide.” Fred stepped back, gestured. “Come on.”

Starr took a step forward, then another. Then followed Fred down the sidewalk.

“Full of light,” Lana acknowledged.

“Glad she’s off our hands.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “I don’t think she’d stick that knife of hers in my ribs, right, but it made for a nervous ride back, man. Jittery ride.”

“She won’t hurt Fred. She’s afraid, and she’s wounded.” Flynn tapped his heart.

“She took a swipe at you, but yeah, you’re right. We found her about fifteen miles north. Flynn says she’s like him.”

“She’s afraid of that, too. We saw a party of Raiders, headed south. They didn’t see us. We found no one but Starr. Some dead, but no living. We brought some supplies, but we felt we should bring her back. We can go out again tomorrow.”

“I don’t know if that’s…” Lana trailed off, then gestured. Beside the door of a house across the street, a light flickered on.

“Hot damn! And I’m talking hot food, hot showers, and hot damn! ” Eddie slung an arm around Flynn’s shoulders. “Dude! Let there be some frigging light.”

* * *

In the kitchen of the house she shared with Arlys, Fred set out a snack bag of potato chips and a can of Coke she chilled.

“You should probably have something healthy, but this is quick, and what I’d want. I’m a faerie,” she said easily as she got a bag of chips for herself. “But you’re like Flynn, right? I’ve gotten pretty good at guessing.”

Starr eyed the chips suspiciously. And longingly. “I don’t know what I am.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I was totally freaked when I first got these.” She brought her wings out, fluttered them while she munched on chips. “People wanted to hurt me, too, and Arlys. But we found more people, good people. Now we’re here.”

Helpfully, Fred opened Starr’s chips, popped the tab on her Coke.

Warily, Starr reached in, took a single chip. After a tiny, testing bite, she stuffed it into her mouth, grabbed more.

And began to weep fat, silent tears as she ate.

“I’m not going to touch you.” In sympathy, Fred’s eyes filled, spilled over. “But you could imagine I’m giving you a hug. I’m sorry for whatever happened to you. I wish bad things didn’t happen.”

“It’s all bad.”